Analípseos tou Kidemóna
by C. Rinkuki Takato
Summary: Ascension of The Guardian—Rated T to be safe. AU. SPOILER(s) for late game/ending. Lightning has kept a (terrible) secret from everyone, even Serah. A secret that she barely touched, all because of its price. That very same secret was the one that she used to change everything, with a terrible price. But that's okay for her. As she paid for it, what will the others do about it?


_**DISCLAIMER: I wouldn't be here, writing FANfiction if I actually own this, would I? That said, I'm borrowing Square's property (or properties), playing in their sandbox, cheering on the fact that I don't have to think of canon materials. If this STILL doesn't spell it clear enough: I DO NOT own any materials here. It mostly (if not ALL) belongs to Square Enix (and whomever else holds the copyright), and I gain no (monetary) profit whatsoever. All I DO gain are some fun, and some experience.**_

* * *

" _Whoa… That's..."_

" _Powerful? Yes, Éclair. That is how much_ power _you have, hidden within you. Waiting. Slumbering_. _But,_ not anymore _."_

" _Then, I could use it to bring_ him _back, right? Mother and Serah would be so happy… We could be together again."_

 _A sigh. "No."_

 _Surprised, hurt eyes. "Wha-?"_

" _Éclair, do you remember when I told you that power corrupts? That because of it, with power comes responsibility? Of equivalent exchange?"_

 _A tentative nod._

" _The same rules apply to you, as well. Such great powers come with great sacrifice…." A sigh. "They say that it's both a blessing and curse from the goddess Etro herself. Much like the fabled Eyes of Etro." A loving caress. "The more power you use, the more sacrifice required. Those of old even lost their lives. It is said that it's a test given by Etro, to see if there's still good in humanity."_

 _A silence._

" _Now, Éclair, you know why I kept_ it _from you…" A bitter smile. "It's more a curse than a blessing, really. Sometimes, I think Etro has a sick sense of humor. Don't tell anyone that, though."_

* * *

Éclair(1) "Lightning" Farron knew she should have noticed it a lot sooner. They were both the only Pulsians in their whole group—thus knew each other very well and had a deep bond, rivaling family bonds, two out of three women in their group of six, and both were in crystal stasis for a long time—perhaps the only surviving Pulsians from Oerba, if their visit was anything to go by. Lightning felt like kicking them in their guts for excluding the rest of them. Could they not see how much they wanted to help them? They were in this together, weren't they? They had done this together, as a team. The ex-soldier thought that Fang and Vanille were pass that after they battled Orphan. Apparently not.

Then again, looking back, she couldn't say she wasn't a hypocrite. She had shut out her own sister. She tended to do things all by herself early in their journey, from before she was a l'Cie, and after she became one. Hope was only following her because he thought she was the one who could teach him how to be stronger, even when Lightning herself was hurting so badly that she made several—if not many—decisions she regretted.

She knew she was just one human ( _l'Cie_ ), but she would be damned if she let them carry the whole burden again. Not when she could do something about it.

 _Such great powers come with great sacrifice…. They say that it's both a blessing and curse from the goddess Etro herself. Much like the fabled Eyes of Etro._

Her mentor's words fell on deaf ears; she was too determined. Too _desperate._

When she noticed their circle of friends had been reduced to four, and saw Fang and Vanille from the corner of her sight, she knew—she just _knew_ ; it was time. She quickly twisted her friend's grip on her hand (who was it, she didn't remember; being too busy focusing on something else entirely—she later learned it was Hope, of all people; poor kid), casting a somewhat-modified Magnet spell to forcibly draw Fang and Vanille closer with the rest of them. She dimly heard the exclamations of surprise from the rest, pleas for her to return, but she paid them no heed. She knew she was being a child, but she especially ignored exclamations from Fang and Vanille. Let them taste their own medicine. It was childish, but she couldn't help her reaction to the hurt, to her ache.

She flipped her survival knife (a birthday gift from _that child_ ) open, staring at the blade. Her heart clenched painfully in her chest. She could imagine just how much she would sacrifice. She regretted a lot of things, especially her treatment to Serah—her precious younger sister. She closed her eyes as she steeled her resolve; now wasn't the time to waver.

 _There are some things in life you just do,_ her signature saying flew in her mind. She smiled ruefully. How true it was.

In a flash of metal, drops of crimson— _ **blood**_ —flew.

A bright flash erupted. No one knew what exactly happened, or how. What they did know was that with a deafening sound, and then Cocoon was sitting in a great crater on Gran Pulse, all of its outer surface—the shell, encased in near-translucent pinkish crystal. It was held in place within the crater with what looked like thorny, pink, crystal vines. The crystalline vines were thicker around the base becoming thinner the higher they get, yet they extended even to the top of Cocoon, the tips overlapping one another, leaving only the hole on the shell that was caused by Ragnarok untouched. Along the thorny crystal vines, bloomed occasional pink crystal roses, each emitting a dim pink glow, unnoticed by day, a sight by night.

Anyone who had travelled with the six l'Cie would notice that they were similar to Odin's eidolith.

* * *

Serah Farron was thankful of her fiancée's faith in her. It was that very same faith that helped unite the ragtag group of l'Cie ( _Pulse_ l'Cie, no less), even her elder sister, much to her delight. Through the crystal tear, she glimpsed their adventure. She didn't get the whole picture, no. But what she glimpsed was enough for her to know what happened throughout their journey—well, mostly Snow's, considering he was the one who carried the tear. Some made her heart break, some made her proud, some made her downright unbelieving, especially when her aloof sister's tone didn't bite as much as before. She would need a real confirmation later, but she could have sworn that her sister was warming up to Snow.

She had almost smiled at the notion.

Well, she would when she was free from her crystal stasis. Hopefully that Fang woman was telling the truth…

When it was time for her to be free again—freed by golden bands of energy she didn't bother to know, she couldn't quite hold back the skip in her step. She did, though, for Dajh's sake. Dajh was a lot younger than her, and she didn't want to leave such a young boy in the middle of nowhere, especially when they were nowhere on Cocoon—nowhere near home.

She jumped to her fiancée's embrace as soon as they were close. Oh, how she missed him, missed feeling his muscled arms protectively hugging her, much like her sister's. She hugged him tighter, both satisfying her longing for him, and to silently tell him how everything was alright. His silence went unnoticed by the young woman. It was only after someone cleared their throat, did she notice how silent the group was. Not even Dajh or Sazh making a sound, not even the choco-chick she saw hiding on Sazh's head.

Serah loosened her hug from Snow's, the blond following her lead. The uncomfortable silence continued, and this time, the youngest Farron _really_ noticed it. Her light aqua eyes—almost the same shade as her sister's—glided across the group, watching how Sazh was trying (and failing, in her opinion) to keep a cheerful atmosphere while remaining silent, his son sensing the tension and thus followed his father's lead. Fang scratched her hair, shuffled her feet, anything it took for her not to look into Serah's eyes. Vanille held her hands together, keeping close to the older Pulsian with her eyes finding the ground at her feet fascinating. Hope looked away, blatantly.

Wait...

Where was _her sister_?

"Snow?"

"Yeah?"

"Where's Oneechan(2)?"

The silence that followed told her enough.

* * *

Oerba Yun Fang could _not_ believe her eyes. Both Vanille and she were prepared to sacrifice themselves to become Ragnarok and then save Cocoon. They had to complete their original Focus _now_. That, and they had nowhere else to go. Not when they were the only survivors of Oerba. Alright, she had to admit, she didn't think what would become of her after their eventual, inevitable crystal stasis. She figured that she would spend an eternity in crystal stasis along with Vanille, at worst. The huntress didn't mind the prospect of that future; she would be spending it with her family, after all. What she _didn't_ count on was for Ms. _Sunshine_ of all people to disagree with the opinion. Completely.

When Vanille yelped, Fang felt herself tensing in anticipation. Anticipating a counterattack, a last resort from Orphan, she was terribly surprised when she felt the pull of a Magnet spell along with Vanille. The huntress twisted in the air, her flaming red lance in her hands in an instant, looking for the spellcaster, and as surprised to find the ex-soldier dropping at great speed toward them, streamlining her body with her arms pinned at her sides to increase her descend toward them. The pink haired ex-soldier adjusted her body as she neared them, and with a speed true to her moniker, she gripped her wrist and Vanille's with her gloved hands, the grip strong yet not painfully so.

Fang barely had time to think, feeling Lightning's muscles tensing through her hand around her wrist, but speak she did. "What the hell are you _doing_?" she screamed against the deafening sounds of Cocoon's descend around them.

The former Guardian Corps sergeant didn't say anything. If it wasn't for her eyes and her lips betraying her, Fang would have thought that she didn't hear them over the booming sounds of Cocoon. She merely tensed her arms, and threw them over her head, throwing them upward while inadvertently caused herself to fall faster.

Fang gave an alarmed shout. Who would save Cocoon now? Only Vanille _and_ she knew _how_ to become Ragnarok, and they even were _prepared_ from it.

The huntress didn't have the time to think about it, though.

In a bright flash and deafening sound, lo and behold, there sat Cocoon, sitting securely on the surface of Gran Pulse.

Golden energy slithered toward them, taking them as a group, wrapping them comfortingly. Fang felt like the energy was familiar to her, but she couldn't quite put it. She felt a tingling sensation on her upper arm, where her brand was. It was still there, frozen. She glimpsed the others' brands as well, and was surprised to notice how their brands were frozen as well. Well, those visible to her eyes, anyway.

She didn't have much time to muse on it; she stumbled when she felt, quite unexpectedly, the hard ground of Gran Pulse under her feet.

The sight of Cocoon sitting on the surface of Gran Pulse, wrapped in crystal vines was more majestic than she thought possible.

* * *

Oerba Dia Vanille(3) didn't know how she saw it and nobody else did.

When Lightning threw both her and Fang toward the others above, she saw how the ex-soldier whipped the knife and quickly slashed her wrist open. The Pulsian cringed at the sight of blood gushing out of the self-inflicted wound. She saw how there was a crest of Etro where there should be her l'Cie brand, glowing blood red. Unknown, golden bands of magic flew from her as she silently screamed, her pupils flashing gold with what looked like Etro's crest. The bands coiled around the falling Cocoon, embracing it, before the falling "planet" disappeared.

Vanille merely had _microseconds_ before the deafening sound erupted.

There, on the surface of Gran Pulse, formed a crater. On the crater, only milliseconds after it formed, Cocoon reappeared, and it was beginning to be wrapped in thorny crystal vines. But the vines didn't form quick enough; it nearly rolled out of its perch. Vanille saw another flash of gold and red— _blood_ , before the vines grew faster than a _blink_ of an eye, and the surface of Cocoon enforced by a layer of crystal. She felt tingles all over her, too, as her vision was obscured by bands of gold. Especially her brand. She then heard a familiar voice in her mind, soft and determined at the same time.

 _Set them free…_

Then, she just knew; they wouldn't have to worry about turning Cie'th anymore.

In the span of _seconds_ , Cocoon _and_ they were saved. But the young Pulsian wondered if the price was worth it. Was _her sacrifice_ worth it? Saving them and Cocoon, when it was Fang's and her responsibility—their _fault_.

A tear slid down her eye.

 _Lightning… Why? Why didn't you tell anyone?_

* * *

" _One more thing, Éclair."_

" _Hm?"_

" _You must_ not _tell anyone of this."_

 _A bitter smile. "I know."_

 _A bitter chuckle. "Good girl."_

* * *

Serah felt her world crumble. Her sister. _Her sister,_ the only family she had left. The one she always relied on, since when they were kids, then after their parents' death, after her sister cast aside her real name (changing it to "Lightning Farron"(4); her surname remained as it was obligatory) even after she joined the army (much to her chagrin).

 _Gone_. Like a lightning—no pun intended; flashing bright before disappearing and leaving only the thundering sound in its wake, no other sign of its brief existence.

Just like that.

She was looking forward to see her sister again, especially when they were parted on bad terms; her becoming a Pulse l'Cie, her sister's anger at both Snow and her new status as Pulse l'Cie, and those difficulties she saw through her crystal tears Snow carried around (frankly, she didn't know if that thing was still a crystal or not now that she was free).

"You aren't free yet, Serah," Vanille's—the girl she met at the seaside, at the beach—voice broke her out of her referee. Did she speak that aloud? The redhead didn't dare meet her eyes, nor anyone else's. Serah didn't quite understand what she meant, before the Pulsian pointed to her upper arm tentatively. Alarmed, both Snow and she quickly glanced at said limb, seeing the frozen, pale brand.

A dark haired woman glanced at her brand also, not looking alarmed in the slightest. "Your brand won't advance." She motioned to her own frozen brand. "You're in no danger to become one of those Cie'th." She let her eyes wander to the others, too, stating, "All of our brands are frozen." She saw the relief rising in their faces. Well, better to crush it now than later. "However, I don't think it is natural."

Sazh Katzroy was the first to freeze. "Wait. Wait. What does that mean?" the pilot asked, his worry for his son apparent on his face. Dajh, looked up at him, squeezing his father's hand in his own small ones, trying to help his father.

Fang scowled. Were they that relieved? So relieved to be free from their time bomb (so to speak), that they had forgotten about one of them who was missing? The huntress didn't bother to hide her scowl.

Sensing the older woman's anger, Vanille immediately spoke, "It was…something that did _this_." Her hands moved to her chest, eyes cast down. "Or rather, some _one._ " She swallowed, unable to continue. She glanced at Fang, speaking words that sent the other Pulsian's spine chill. "Fang, it was _sanguis votum._ It's… It's like what the stories said _,_ " she whispered hoarsely, unshed tears gathering in her eyes and blurring her sight without her notice. When did she cry?

Those words meant nothing to the Cocoonian, who wasn't as well versed to the legend as the Pulsians. Fang jerked her head so quick that one would wonder whether or not she had a whiplash from the motion. "What?!" the woman hissed. "Don't joke around, Vanille!" she snapped, "You know as well as I do that only those embraced, _chosen_ by Etro would ever be able to! And there's _no one_ , **ever**."

"I'm not joking!" the younger one shot back. The two Pulsians were dimly aware of how they ignored their friends, but they paid them no heed; there were more pressing matters to be addressed. ASAP. "I _saw_ it! I saw _everything_!" Tears fell from her eyes, much to everyone's surprise. "I saw Light… I saw Light doing it, Fang," she sobbed.

The huntress said nothing. She approached the crying redhead, wrapping her arms around her sobbing form. Regardless, the Pulsian continued her story. "She cut her wrist, then _it happened._ The saving of Cocoon. At first it wasn't quick enough. I saw her doing it again, then it is done. Even our brands are frozen, freeing us permanently…"

"Permanently?" Fang asked. She had never heard of such a thing.

She nodded. "I heard her whisper, Fang." She hugged the older woman tighter. "Oh, Fang, I don't know if she even _survived_ it. It would have taken a lot of energy, a lot of power. A lot of…" She trailed off.

Then she broke. Her (adopted) older sister wrapping her in her embrace, feeling her own heart clenching.

 _That woman…_

* * *

Fang gently rocked Vanille until she dozed off after crying for so long. The huntress was thankful of Serah; the girl remained silent, not demanding, despite her own worry over her sister. Looked like she was more mature than everyone thought she was. She wondered if Lightning knew…

Speaking of the woman…

Fang lowered herself and Vanille gently to the ground before she spoke softly, "There's a legend of old told among us. The goddess of death, Etro, would choose someone, granting them great powers, almost rivalling even that of fal'Cie. The powers used to be passed down from one generation to another, by blood. Fathers to sons, mothers to daughters. It was said, that on the 13th generation, one of them became corrupt, known as "Desperado", with their real name, age, and gender unknown, only named after their desperation— _lust_ for more power. Desperado shed so much blood, most of it that of their _kin,_ even _drinking_ it, until they were the last of their kin. Etro was grieved—she heard the wailings of the dead. She wrenched away the powers from Desperado, ripping away their life in the process. There was no one else who had the powers, and it became a myth. It was said that from then on, because the powers were too great, to use it, the chosen had to shed their blood. Our people didn't dwell too much on it then because we had Ragnarok. We had always thought it was a myth. A mere legend. Ragnarok was— _is_ real, so we focused on that."

Fang snorted bitterly, "At least until know. We call it _sanguis votum_ or "bloody wish" for its requirement. Some said that it was merely a test, some said it was the goddess' experimentation."

"Fitting," Sazh remarked.

Fang nodded grimly. She got what he meant.

Hope sighed. He looked up to the top of Cocoon. "Hey…" he muttered. Many eyebrows were raised. He raised his hand, pointing at a small falling speck in the distance. "What's that?"

Snow squinted, his forehead scrunched up. "Hmm… I dunno."

Sazh shrugged.

Fang squinted. The speck was a bit too small to see clearly, but she noticed it was somewhat red.

Or, rather… _pink_.

Fang's eyes widened.

 _Drats._

She drew her eidolith from her brand on her bicep, throwing it before she threw her spear after the small pebble. As it shattered in a small _clink,_ summoning glyphs formed in the air. The huntress wasted no more time; she set Vanille gently on the ground, lying her on the cool grass, before she dashed madly to snatch her spear with a jump. As her hand wrapped around the handle of her weapon, Bahamut, her eidolon, in his gestalt mode, scooped her up. She licked her lips in anticipation, her green eyes trailing after the falling speck. She gritted her teeth in determination. She _would not_ fail this time.

Not to save her friend who had paid the price Vanille and she were supposed to pay.

* * *

Lightning felt light.

…no pun intended.

She felt lightheaded from the blood loss she suffered, and the energy that left her as she did her deeds. When she noticed how Cocoon nearly rolled—it would have been _catastrophic_ , she slashed open the vein in her neck. She didn't regret it, per se; she regretted not cutting her _other wrist_ instead of her _neck,_ though. It was unnecessarily foolish on her part. Sometimes, she wondered why she did stuff without much thinking when she was level-headed most of the time. She felt her lifeblood escaping her with each beat of her heart, gushing out like crimson river. Her eyes flickered as she fought sleep, fearing that the second she succumbed to it would be the second her life left her body. She could hear the winds in her ears, the gravity of Gran Pulse pulling her.

 _Serah…_

Her fingers twitched.

 _Have to get back… Serah…_

She tried to gather enough will, enough energy to save herself. To no avail. Her heart went cold when the ex-soldier noticed she had lost too much energy, _and_ too much blood. She wouldn't be using _it_ anytime soon. Her body wasn't cooperative, either. It felt too sluggish, too _slow_ , refusing the commands she screamed at it from her mind for it to. Just. _Move_. All she got was a soft keen that escaped her vocal chords, and twitches.

A tear fell from her eye, her frustration flooding her mind.

 _I'm sorry…_

 _Serah…_

* * *

Serah stared at the fading figure of the tanned dark-haired woman. She knew her name—Oerba Yun Fang, thanks to the crystal tear Snow insisted on carrying around, but her fiancée insisted on introducing her with the rest of the group. She half-heartedly listened, for once not feeling cheerful. How _could_ she? Her sister was out there, possibly—no, she didn't even want to _think_ about it. She offered a weak smile to Sazh, which the man returned in kind. She was glad when nor Snow or Sazh commented on her half-hearted demeanor.

 _Oneechan… Where are you?_

She subconsciously gripped her bicep where her frozen brand was. She felt a presence brushing with her mind—another _consciousness._ It whispered in her mind weakly, so faint she could barely hear it.

 _I'm sorry…_

She jerked, surprising Snow. "No," she whispered. She would know _that voice_ anywhere. Even with how weakened it was, how thick it was with grief and regret and sorrow, she'd know it anywhere.

Her sister, Lightning—no, _Éclair_.

She collapsed to the ground, sobbing. "Oneechan, don't leave me.

"I'm sorry, too…"

* * *

" _Éclair. You saw something." It wasn't a question._

 _A pause. Shuffling. "I saw the_ end _." A choked, near silent sob. "I... Why does it have to be me? Why does it have to be Serah?"_

 _A pause. "What are you going to do?" The tone was resigned._

 _A sniffle. An exhale. "I'll do whatever it takes. It will_ not _come to pass. Even if I_ die _because of it." Determination. Slight ache and longing._

 _A humorless chuckle. "Won't be easy, ya know?"_

" _So be it." Tone strong—_ resolute.

" _If that is so, I'll teach you." A pause, then a whisper. "Just promise me this: live(5). I cannot stand feeling_ another _death…"_

* * *

Snow Villiers didn't know what to say when his fiancée broke down in tears out of a sudden. He was at a loss, feeling out of the loop. When he heard her broken whisper, though, his resolve strengthened as realization dawned. He crouched, then hugged her, drawing her into his embrace. Serah turned to him, clutching his shirt. He rubbed his hand in circles on her back, whispering comforting words. He didn't completely understand, but he had his suspicion.

Well, it was hard not to; Lightning had forced her hand free from Hope's grasp ( _poor kid_ _was_ **hysterical** ), before she practically sacrificed herself.

The long-story-short version, anyway.

The blond hoped he would get to ask why did Lightning do that. And hopefully pummel the woman for making her sister cry.

…Then again, that might make Serah cry even more.

…That is going to be a tough decision.

* * *

As Bahamut drew closer to the speck, Fang could make out more and more details. Details that sent her cursing along the rest of the journey.

Let's see; pink, something red fluttering along. There were other details, too, but she didn't even bother.

It was her, alright.

"Damn that woman," Fang grumbled. "Doing everything by herself." She blatantly ignored the voice that said that who she was to speak when Vanille and she were about to do the same themselves. "Just you wait, Light. When I gotcha, you're so going to wish you're a Cie'th being pummeled around by your own pony of an eidolon." She tensed her legs, before jumping off Bahamut to snatch the bloody ex-soldier from the air. The second Fang had Lightning in her grasp, she cursed up a storm.

Vanille wasn't kidding when she said it took a _lot_ of blood.

That woman was _sooo_ going to get it, alright.

She whipped open her communicator and dialed Snow without a care of her descend—Bahamut would catch them before they became pancakes on the hard ground. It felt like forever when Snow answered, and the huntress unashamedly stated it. At least it would help her feel better, if only for a bit.

"Took ya forever. Were you making out with _Light's_ imouto(6)?" Without waiting for a reply, she snapped, "Get a room, and get some ethers; we're going to need a _lot_ of healing magic."

* * *

Snow felt the communicator—the phone, vibrate in his pocket. It took a bit of coaxing to let Serah loosen up for him to answer the call. His face brightened up when he noticed the caller ID. Without thinking her pressed the button for loudspeaker, and answered it with a "yo, Fang."

Big mistake.

" _Took ya forever. Were you making out with_ Light's _imouto?"_ His and Serah's face burned bright crimson that put would put Fang's dual lance to shame, with the speed that would put Blazefire's transformation mechanism to shame. He was about to retort before she cut ahead of him. _"Get a room, and get some ethers; we're going to need a_ lot _of healing magic."_

Snow perked at the last sentence, but, again, he didn't get the chance to speak. Hope would have toppled him when he shoved himself closer if it wasn't for his bulk. "Fang-san(7), is Light-san…?" He trailed off.

" _Hmm? So it's on loudspeaker, eh? My bad."_ She certainly didn't sound apologetic. _Whatsoever_. _"Yea,"_ she confirmed. _"But Vanille wasn't kidding. I can't tell here, but I'd bet my sari—"_ blushes galore _"—that she's going to need it. I'd say get some potions, too, but I don't know if she could down them or get_ drowned _."_

"Fang." The men turned. When did she wake…?! "I don't think we have enough."

" _Then you'll have to get some more, sweetheart. And fast. I don't think she'll last long at this rate."_

The four l'Cie exchanged looks, each nodding resolutely. "Alright," Snow replied. "You can count on us."

" _Good. Oh, hero?"_

"Yeah?"

" _Hurry up if you still want to get permission from the family to marry Serah later."_

Snow grinned. "Just leave that to me!"

Serah looked up from Snow's warm embrace and felt the prickling of unshed tears. She still couldn't believe how lucky her sister was. A smile tugged at her lips, despite the crisis looming upon them.

 _Oneechan… Hang in there._

* * *

Fang gritted her teeth as she readjusted her grip on the unconscious Lightning as Bahamut beat his wings, which was kind of hard, considering how she had to make sure she didn't fall off of Bahamut in the first place; she was afraid that Lightning wouldn't remain alive for much longer. Not with those kind of injuries she had. Those self-inflicted injuries, no less. She risked a glance downward to her pale face. The left side of her neck still trickled with blood. It didn't flow heavily, but Fang didn't know if that meant the wound wasn't that deep, or she was losing _too_ much blood that it showed. She shuddered. _Now_ wasn't the time to think of such thing. Her left wrist had a deeper wound, and it still bled quite heavily, despite her efforts—which wasn't helping, considering the circumstances.

"Damn, Light. You really didn't pull any punches now, did you?" she grumbled to herself. Her green eyes stung from flying at high speed for this long. She felt Bahamut slowing to compensate to her pain. The eidolon thought he could ease the unease of his master. Fang grunted as she stared down at the armored back of the dragon. "Don't you dare slow down on me, darlin'!" The dragon beat his wings stronger in reply, roaring. Fang smirked. "We've got a princess to save."

Bahamut couldn't agree more.

* * *

Hope panted as he cradled the bottles of potions and ethers close to his chest, running to their rendezvous. Dajh and Serah were the only ones left—Vanille had downright refused to stay still when she could be of help, no matter how the men argued. She had bolted as soon as she declared that she was helping look, too. The fourteen-year-old sighed. Stubborn women—the lot of them.

"Here," he panted, handing the bottles to Serah. She took it gratefully before placing them safely in a bag one of them acquired earlier. It came of no surprise to Hope that Serah was able to gather her wits faster than he did. She was a Farron, and she took after her elder sister, even if Lightning didn't seem to notice.

 _Lightning…_

"She would be alright," Serah suddenly said. The boy's attention snapped at her, their eyes meeting. Hope was mesmerized by the fire he saw in the pools of pale aqua that were her eyes, the color being akin to that of her sister's. It was fierce, unyielding. "Oneechan is too stubborn to die." She clenched a hand to a fist. "She _has_ to."

"Ano…(8) What was she like?" When all he got was a questioning look, he clarified, "Light-san."

" _Oh_ ," Serah giggled. "Oneechan wasn't always like she is, you know." The girl sighed as she looked into the distance, losing herself in the memories of the old days. "Mom said that she was a "daddy's girl" when Dad was still alive. I was too young to remember him, though. Oneechan never told me how he died. She would just clamp up every time I asked, and her eyes would look pained so badly that even she couldn't conceal it. By high school, I stopped asking about him. When Mom was still alive, Oneechan would play with me, especially when I'm feeling down. She would take care of me, help me do my homework, help Mom do the chores—all but cooking, mind you. When Mom got worse, she would take care of her, too, even when Mom told her not to." Serah sighed. She pushed her bangs to the side. Hope seated himself on the grass, sitting across Serah and Dajh—the boy was also drawn into the story as he did. "When Mom died, I never even saw her cry. It's like, her old self died and "Lightning" took her place.

"There was still enough money for us to live for the next three years. By the time Oneechan graduated high school, she knew that she couldn't continue her schooling with our family the way it was. She joined the GC soon after. As she climbed the ranks, we spent time less and less around each other, and she hid more and more from me—not that she was any good in expressing herself in the first place; there was this one time, when she didn't return home, and Oneechan didn't answer her phone."

Hope looked down, trying to hide his amused smile. "Must have given you a scare…"

Serah chuckled. "That it did. I was surprised when it was her superior who answered. He called himself Amodar(9), and he told me that he thought Oneechan had called me like she told him she would. Turned out she didn't. He told me that she was injured—how bad, he didn't say—in the field, and she was unconscious. Turned out she was badly injured. She returned home a week later, much to her horror. I forced her to spill, and got the answer from her CO again; she overworked herself, and got herself hurt as a result. She did save a lot of her subordinates, though."

Hope grinned. "Sounds like Light-san, alright."

Serah giggled. "Yeah." Her humor bled from her as she continued, "But she didn't _stop_. She never did. Her superiors practically had to kick and lock her out for her to get any sort of leave—not without a lot of protests from her. We both drifted apart. Our worst fallout was on her 21st birthday. I was branded Pulse l'Cie, and Oneechan didn't believe me when I told her. She believed it was a lie I conjured to force her to accept Snow." She smiled weakly. "Well, I think you know the rest." The girl sighed. "Oneechan rarely says anything about herself. She never wears her heart at her sleeve, keeping to herself. Even before our parents died." She clasped her hands above her chest. "I wish she doesn't do it as often as she does. She believes as long as I'm happy and I get the best, then what she suffered, and what she feels don't matter.

"Oneechan's too selfless."

Hope winced.

* * *

Both Snow and Sazh cringed behind the rocks. They knew Lightning had it rough, and she changed her name to toughen herself up. They just never knew it was _this_ bad. She never told them. At least now they knew. Well, should said person knew they knew, she _would_ blow a gasket— _and_ shot them with her Blaze Edge. Snow promised himself to be better, to work harder. If not for Lightning, then for Serah.

A large shadow passed them with the sounds of beating wings.

Snow and Sazh exchanged looks before they nodded in unison.

But first, they have an ex-soldier to save.

* * *

As soon as Bahamut landed, everyone _moved_.

The eidolon lowered himself as low as he could, trying to help his mistress as best as he could. He knew he couldn't directly help, but Etro would be damned if he didn't do anything. Snow and Sazh helped Fang lowering Lightning to the ground, mindful of her injuries. Fang dismissed Bahamut with a quick "thanks" as soon as Lightning was off of his back to make more room—Bahamut wasn't small, after all. Serah felt tears prickling her eyes, but she forced them not to fall—there are other times, and it _wasn't_ now. She dug through the bag, handing ethers to Vanille and Hope as per Snow's instruction. Hope and Vanille, as two of the best Medic in the group—the other being the injured party—nodded, silently asking for support, and downed a bottle each as fast as they could.

While they were drinking the fluids, Serah helped Fang get her sister as comfortable as she could be, removing her Blazefire and its holster along with her red cape, folding the fabric. Fang lifted the elder Farron's head and Serah placed the makeshift pillow before the huntress gently laid her head on it. As the ex-soldier groaned softly, Fang folded her legs, letting her knees rise and allow more blood flow to her vitals and brain. The older Pulsian stole a glance at the younger Cocoonian and she wasn't disappointed; despite lacking any military training, the girl was already zipping down her sister's turtleneck to ease access to the site, looking around for something to clean the neck wound.

Fang rolled her eyes as she took off her glove and inspected the wound.

Typical error.

Snow came over and handed both Serah and Fang wet cloths. Serah nodded in thanks to her fiancée, and started to wipe the half-dried blood, Fang following her lead with the wrist. Over their shoulders, Hope and Vanille inhaled before they cast healing spells as strong as they could, both agreeing to focus on one wound each. Slowly, in a pair of soft green glows, the wounds knitted itself, leaving faint scars in their wake. Fang pressed her fingers to the side of Lightning's neck, feeling for a pulse. She felt tense, anticipating eyes on her and they made her hard to concentrate. She growled inwardly. Fang then held her breath to concentrate further.

When she lifted her emerald green eyes, pairs of eyes stared back at hers anxiously.

Fang broke out a toothy grin. "Looks like Light's too stubborn to die, after all."

Cheers broke out, and tears of relief and joy flowed out of various eyes.

* * *

Lieutenant Amodar saw the flying beast before even his men. The huge shadow passed him overhead, and with a speed his stature wouldn't suggest, he turned his head, seeking out the source of the shadow. Lo and behold, there was a dragon-like creature flying overhead with great speed. The lieutenant held his breath. If the beast noticed them, he was afraid they weren't in _any_ condition to fight. Not when they suffered losses before Cocoon's fall, and when his men were trying to keep order among the masses. He pinched the bridge of his nose. Sometimes, he felt he was too old for this. Ah, how he _wished_ Farron was here—she was efficient, sometimes scarily so. It would make his job _a lot_ easier. His temples throbbed with the coming of a headache at the thought of his (ex-)subordinate.

Farron was young— _very_ young by his standards. He remembered when she first came to the base, a tender, pretty eighteen-year-old pink-haired girl. Other troops laughed at her, making fun of her. And she didn't even twitch. Amodar was impressed, but he was perturbed when he saw her _eyes_.

Those eyes were _far_ too old for an eighteen-year-old girl. Eyes of a _warrior_. Sure, she was still a little wet behind the ears, but her eyes told of pain, and perseverance. For what, he hadn't known back then, but he knew she would be a great soldier.

Amodar took her under his wing— _subtly_. The girl— _Lightning,_ he later learned, was a natural. She was a great shot, barely missing her targets, and when she _did_ miss, it was by the _tiniest_ of margins. She wielded blades like no other, dancing a lethal dance, like it was something she learned ever since she knew how to walk on her feet. Her focus, concentration was undeterred, razor sharp, as was her gaze. Her mind was fast, in a speed true to her namesake, as was her body, and she knew how to improvise— _strategize_ , in the field. She was serious— _most_ of the time, but he found the more good-humored side of her once he got to know her.

Before they knew it, she was a sergeant by the time she was almost twenty, and carried a gunblade—Blaze Edge, which she treasured greatly. Her Blazefire was special; there was an inscription etched into it that only hers had—not that she knew that; she would have his head if he wasn't her commanding officer.

All in all, Lightning was an " _army of one_ ", as some called her—behind her back.

When he saw her in the television, labelled as a Pulse l'Cie, he couldn't _believe_ his eyes and ears. He wanted to shout to the PSICOM brats that they were making a _mistake_ , that she was one of their finest. His mouth dried when he saw her determined eyes. A lump formed in his throat when he saw her fight against her own (former) comrades in arms, her brothers-in-arms, GC and PSICOM alike. Amodar then tried his best—his _absolute best_ to ensure his men didn't fight his sarge, for her sake, his and his men's.

Alas, he couldn't do much.

Then suddenly, Cocoon fell.

And abruptly stopped.

And there was that dragon.

Amodar rubbed his temples.

Yup, he was getting _too_ old for this.

Well, might as well investigate.

* * *

Hope rubbed tears of relief out of his eyes, laughter bubbled from his chest. At last, he could be of use to her, to his _mentor_ —the one who helped him when he was lost, when there was _no one_ to turn to. He dimly heard Sazh rejoicing with his son, Dajh, and the chocobo chick which was always hiding in his afro, much to the group's amusement. He felt Snow thumping his back, laughing all the while. Before, he would feel rage whenever he heard the laughter. Now that he had forgiven Snow, the older blond didn't seem all that bad.

Fang let them have their fun for a couple to minutes, before she said, "Alright, we're going to need a place for Sleeping Beauty to let her have her beauty sleep." Chuckles erupted, even Serah joining in.

A cough. "I might be able to help you with that."

Their laughter ceased, and some of them felt their blood turn to ice at the voice, especially Snow.

" _You_ …" he whispered.

* * *

Amodar _cursed_ inwardly. He tailed the flying beast, especially when he noticed a flash of red and pink on top of it. As a precaution, he hauled his gigantic weaponry along with him. He told his men to _not_ tail him—whatsoever, much to their dismay. But when the magic words of the superior were said, the classical "that's an order", his men relented. He felt a bit bad at that, and thus ordered his men to help civilians, especially when there were still people on Cocoon with chances of shock and/or in the verge of rioting. Wouldn't want more casualties now, would they? With that matter solved, he tailed the beast quickly and, surprisingly, quite silently. He found it landing nearer than he thought.

As soon as the dragon landed, he saw a dark-haired woman jumping off of the creature, and—he felt his blood turn ice cold—they lowered Farron from the beast. Amodar cursed all the way to Sunday when he saw how pale and bloody the ex-soldier was. He had never saw her _that_ pale; almost as pale as the dead. The _worst_ of her that he had ever seen was even less pale than what he saw now—heck, he even rarely saw her get more than a single _scratch_ with how skilled she was.

Amodar was not a fool nor naïve; he knew one day Farron _would_ get injured, bad, much like _that_ day. No, what shook him most was those wounds on her wrist and neck looked self-inflicted. The lieutenant knew that Lightning had some kind of suicidal streak—as in, soloing in dangerous missions meant for groups, _battalions_. Fortunately for the middle-aged man, his subordinate grew out of it after half a year of admittance to the Guardian Corps. He never knew she was _this_ kind of suicidal, though.

He shook his head slightly, shaking the thoughts unbecoming of an officer in the field. Now wasn't the time. He held himself back—took a lot of effort, too. He wanted to see what the group in front of him would do.

* * *

Amodar was _not_ disappointed. In fact, he was _impressed_. Their teamwork was astounding, as if they knew their roles, moving in perfect harmony like a well-oiled machine. One thing he didn't mean to know was Farron's life story. The story explained a great deal, though. Looking back, Amodar developed a respect for her. He knew she had a rough life, but he didn't know it was to _that_ extent. The GC lieutenant vowed to keep to himself. It was the least he could do; Farron was _prideful_ , no matter what she said. She'd rather _die_ — _bad metaphor, Amodar_ —than let her weakness show.

He would be lying if he said he didn't want them in his squad, though.

Unfortunately for him, they were in a grassland where there were little somethings to hide behind. He noticed the dark-haired woman eyeing him from the corner of her eyes, the dark emerald orbs suspecting. He eased from his crouched stance, easing his fighting stance and grip on his weaponry, slinging the heavy thing onto his back.

The eyes never wavered, even when the others were letting out cheers of joy.

Amodar felt a bit uneasy. He had heard of a similar woman recruited by the PSICOM before she went AWOL. The same woman remarked that they were going to need a place to stay and let Farron rest. He decided to make his presence known then. He coughed. "I might be able to help you with that."

Their laughter ceased. Amodar could see tension in their frames, coiling, ready to snap at any moment, especially Snow. They knew one another from that one time when Lightning was sent for a monster extermination mission, and NORA helped out. He even introduced the sergeant. Well, the introduction wasn't smooth.

" _You_ …" Snow whispered.

Amodar grinned, moving in a relaxed manner, making sure his hands were nowhere near his weapon strapped to his back. "Yo, Snow-kun,(10)" he greeted. His cheery demeanor dropped when he noticed that even _Snow_ didn't return it. "Alright, I guess we get down to business, then?" Their eyes agreed so bad that they didn't even need to voice it. "Name's Amodar. I'm—was Farron's commanding officer back when she's—was in the GC, in Bodhum Security Regiment." He bit back a grin. "Well, her _direct_ superior."

The next spoken words brought shivers down their spines with the determination in it.

"And I'd hate to lose such a fine comrade when I could do something about the damn situation."

* * *

She felt like she was floating, yet not. Her mind was in the skies, while her body was as heavy as fal'Cie Titan. She heard voices all around her, but no matter how much she tried to make them out, she just _couldn't_. Her body felt cold, yet she couldn't even shiver. She felt detached from her own body. The woman felt a warm hand caress her cheek, the only speck of warmth amidst the chill. She would have turned her head to the warmth to attempt to get more of it _if_ she could. Even moving her head to the side felt like moving a ton of concrete by her own hands. She gave up when she didn't seem to get anywhere.

She heard a chuckle.

 _Am I…dreaming? Did I hit my head?_

The chuckle was back. It was warm, music to her ears, chiming like the best of bells.

 _No, you're not, and you didn't hit your head._

 _Who are you?_

Her only answer was the caress on her cheek. _Rest. You deserve it._

 _But…Serah…My friends…_

 _They're all right,_ the feminine voice cooed.

She sagged in relief. It didn't matter what happened to her as long as they were safe.

The voice chuckled—again. However, this time, she sensed a hint of sadness in it. Strange. _Now, rest._

She didn't need to be told twice.

* * *

The next time she felt her consciousness returning was to the sound of her sister's yelling, and constant beeps of something.

"You can't!"

"Ms. Farron—"

"I _said_ you _can't!_ I'm her _only_ living relative, and that's _final_!"

 _Serah? What's going on? What are you babbling about?_

"I'm afraid your sister is in too long of a coma. She has _little_ chance of coming to, and even if she _does_ wake, there's no telling if she would function normally," a male voice explained.

"I _don't_ care!" A choked sob. "She's my sister and she _never_ gives up on me; I'm _not_ going to give up on her!"

 _Serah? What…?_

She felt her sister— _Serah_ , leaning and speaking into her ear softly, "Please, wake up, Oneechan..." She felt a drop of something falling on her cheek. Was her sister crying? "I'm so _sorry_ , Oneechan. I'm sorry, just, open your eyes, for me?"

 _I'm trying, Serah. I'm trying. Etro knows I'm trying…_

* * *

"Yo, Neesan."

… _Snow?_

A scoff. "Gee, you'd probably chew me off if I called you 'Neesan', scolding in my face that you're not my sister."

 _Damn right._

He sobered—which she didn't think was possible, if she didn't go on a life-or-death journey with him. "Hey, Neesan. I… I proposed to Serah."

… _the heck?!_

Sounds of rustling. "Well, hear me out, will you? I proposed to her. And you know what she said?" He chuckled. "She said that she's going to _wait_ for you. She wanted to get your blessing first, I guess. She said she wanted her sister awake to the wedding, guiding her to the altar as her family. Having the party with you around."

 _Serah…_

"…Wake up soon, Lightning."

* * *

"Light-san."

 _Hope…_

"I…I reunited with my father. We're living together now, in Palumpolum." An uneasy chuckle. "Yeah, we're still living on—or _in—_ Cocoon, but Dad's considering to move out to Gran Pulse. He said that we're just waiting for the house to be built, and the defenses set up; Pulse— _Gran Pulse_ is nowhere like Cocoon, after all."

 _Wise choice._

"Um… Everyone's worried about you, Light-san. You've been asleep for six months. The doctors couldn't find anything wrong with you, and Vanille and I had tried to heal you over and over again, but there were no improvements. Your body is just comatose—sometimes _too_ comatose; they had to hook you up to life-support when you stopped breathing spontaneously around four months ago." A gulp.

… _Hope? What's wrong?_

"They… They're going to give up, Light-san. Serah-san is still trying to get them to keep you hooked up to life-support, but I don't think even _she_ could prolong it for much longer anymore; there were monster attacks and diseases, Light-san. The doctors are itching to use the devices they are using on you on other hopefuls instead. Fang-san and Vanille-san are among the front liners. Vanille-san as support while Fang-san's battling. Sazh-san has been using airships to transport technology and people from and to Cocoon; sometimes they ask for his help to deploy armies to combat the monsters. Snow-san is among the defense forces for when smaller, quicker monsters manage to penetrate the front defenses. Even then it's not enough. Please, Light-san, if you can hear us, _help_ …"

"…Come on, son…"

… _Hope…_

* * *

" _Éclair."_

… _Master?_

" _I'm not your teacher any longer, Éclair."_

 _Why are you…?_

" _Listen up, Éclair. I'm not going to explain for too long; the defenses are barely holding. Monsters suddenly surged to New Oerba—where you and your friends are. Your friends_ won't _survive, not the way the fight is going on. I can't help them, even if I want to…_

"… _but_ you _can."_

… _What can I do?_

" _Wake up, obviously. Oh, one more thing, Éclair."_

 _A grin._

" _You passed the test;_ sanguis votum _was Etro's trial. With your deeds, you passed with flying colors._ That damned thing _was actually a test. A test to see if you're to be Etro's chosen, a protector of humanity, the_ children _of Etro. Your act was out of compassion, even when you hated Cocoon's fal'Cie, yet you wished for humanity to grow out of fal'Cie shadows, to stand on their own feet. For your desire to use your curse to_ save _people, regardless of the price, and with your friends' own compassion, you passed._

" _There will be no_ need _for blood sacrifice any longer; the curse is lifted. Cut them a path, Knight of Etro."_

* * *

Fang grunted and shoved the gorgonopsid and poked said beast in the eye. The beast roared in anger and agony, much to the Pulsian's delight—she _was_ a hunter, and this _damned beast_ just. Wouldn't. _Die_. Behind her, Bahamut was busy breathing fire to the enemies, clawing and smacking them when he wasn't roasting them. His tail swept the battlefield behind the eidolon. On another side of the battlefield, Snow was blasting enemies with ice magic, his eidolons, the Shiva sisters—Stiria and Nix, freezing monsters here and there while occasionally creating walls of ice to deter the next incoming waves to give them time for short breaks. Snow had his NORA friends lead and protect the civilians alongside with Guardian Corps soldiers. Amodar himself was raining fire on the monsters alongside them, sometimes letting boisterous laugh, or shooting a joke or two in the middle of combat. The blond replied in kind, all the while punching monsters here and there, sometimes sounding out of breath due to exertion and laughter. Sazh rode Brynhildr's gestalt mode—a racing car—and caused chaos among the monsters by breaking suddenly through their midst and leaving walls of fire in his wake, also delaying the next monster waves. The chocobo chick in his head chirped once in a while, working like an alarm when there were monsters that were too close.

A bit to the back, Serah wielded a bowsword in its bow form—the Starseeker(11), a gift which landed at her doorstep with an anonymous note, shooting arrows at enemies in the distance or aiding her friends and allies. Said bowsword was put in a leather case, much like her sister's gunblade case (which was rarely seen, no thanks to the fact that Lightning was practically _attached_ to her beloved gunblade, the Blaze Edge). The note had said, _"Hang in there; help is coming. In the meantime, train yourself in using this. The name's Starseeker."_ What help, she didn't understand then. After a lot of coaxing to Snow, he finally allowed her to practice using Starseeker in both bow and sword forms. She was _far_ from great, but she was good enough, merely lacking field experience.

Which she was having _right now_.

As she shot a goblin in the head, killing it, she thought back to her sister. Oh, how she wished her elder sister was here. She would make quick work of a lot of the enemy. She knew her sister choose her alias for a reason, and that was her inhuman speed, with _or_ without the Grav-Con unit she had. Her sister was skilled. _Very_.

Too bad; as she thought of her sister, she was open for the monsters. Which she realized too late, when she heard Snow screaming her name and saw a gorgonopsid opening its maw and jumping at her.

Without thinking, she raised her arms to shield her face, dropping Starseeker in the process, and shouted,

" _Oneechan!"_

* * *

When Lightning woke, she was wearing standard, light blue hospital gown. To her right, there was an annoying, constant " _beep beep_ " that mirrored her heartbeats. Her throat felt dry, her voice stuck in her throat from disuse. Her mouth was dry from the use of ventilator. On her left forearm, an IV was inserted to supply her body with nutrients and fluids it needed to survive. On various areas of her chest, she felt the electrodes for her heart monitor. Strangely, her mind and body felt as great as ever.

She tentatively pressed the button to call the staff. When there was nothing happening for the next several agonizing minutes, she took it upon herself to remove all of those equipment—lucky her she was able to observe her doctor when she was admitted to the base infirmary during her earlier days in the Guardian Corps. The woman grimaced.

 _This is going to hurt._

* * *

With a lot of suppressed ouch-es, Éclair "Lightning" Farron was finally free of those medical instruments. Now, she faced _another_ dilemma.

Where was her weapon? Her _Blaze Edge_?

Lightning cursed loudly.

* * *

It took her _an hour_ to locate her old uniform and her dear gunblade, the Blaze Edge. To think they placed it in the corner of her room, concealed from general eyesight, unless you know what to look for. Perhaps that was what took her so long. She would _not_ admit that she was in a hurry to leave the hospital room. Nope, not _one_ bit.

After securing her garb and equipment, namely, Blaze Edge and its holster, she tested out her Grav-Con unit, snapping her left fingers together. She nodded, pleased, when she felt and saw the signs of it functioning.

Not a moment too soon.

There were screams and animalistic roars that echoed down the halls.

The soldier, now back to familiar grounds AKA _battles_ , unsheathed Blaze Edge, and ran in high speed, true to her name.

The hospital was left with one casualty (who was a foolish man playing hero when there was nothing he could fight with), and countless blood splatters and pieces of monsters.

Lightning struck, and she had somewhere she needed to be. All she left behind in her wake was dead monsters, and awed survivors.

* * *

Serah squeezed her eyes shut, anticipating the pain that was sure to come before death. She didn't feel anything but a breeze and sounds metal piercing flesh and something choking.

"Never turn your eyes from the enemy, Serah," a familiar, firm yet gentle voice spoke from in front of her. Serah dared not to hope. No, _she_ couldn't be here. It was not possible. There was sounds of a familiar weapon folding and being sheathed, then she felt a firm, calloused hand on her shoulder.

Serah Farron opened her eyes and stared into the blazing light aqua eyes of Éclair "Lightning" Farron.

She threw herself on her sister's embrace. "Don't you _dare_ do that again," she sobbed.

The older Farron embraced her, hugged her tightly. "I know. I'm sorry, Serah. You won't have to fight alone anymore.

"I'm _here_."

They pulled back, Lightning sporting a predatory smirk of her own. "Now, it's my time to join in the fight."

 _Lightning… It flashes bright, then it fades away…_

* * *

The battle was suddenly _over_.

They were being overwhelmed when suddenly the monsters dropped dead here and there, at random, most butchered into pieces. The larger ones rarely lost a limb or two, but some did. The larger ones had deep scratches and bullet holes. The smaller ones were downright mutilated with some luckier few which were dead by bullets. It all happened with flashes of pink, rose petals and white feathers.

Just like _that_.

Snow blinked, his fists still raised, his opponent dead at his feet, butchered beyond recognition. He dimly felt his eidolons dismiss and the remaining monsters bolting. As he lowered his fists, he broke out a grin, and shouted,

"You're late, Neesan!"

His reply was an automatic "Who's your sister?"

Yep, their Lightning was _back_.

* * *

The aftermath was joyful, even with inevitable casualties here and there. But they were very few and in between, which was _way_ better than they thought.

There also was the celebration of Lightning's return.

The said recently-reinstated soldier was getting admonitions from various people, both l'Cie and ordinary humans, military personnel and otherwise, subordinates and superiors. Her ears were ringing and her back was stinging by the end of the lectures; her acquaintances were suddenly _brave_ , both in words _and_ in physical contact. And for once, Lightning didn't have it in her to scold them for it. She knew how it felt; being left out of a comrade's plan. As the party escalated, the pink-haired soldier left the room, walking out to Gran Pulsian air. She inhaled, savoring the taste of fresh air, unlike Cocoon's air.

"Knew you would be here, soldier girl."

Lightning rolled her eyes. "Am I that predictable now?" she remarked sarcastically.

The native Pulsian laughed. "Maybe," she teased, her grin apparent from her tone. Lightning snorted. "Oohh. Light doing something unlady-like."

Lightning smirked. "Fang, you're treading on thin ice," she warned.

Fang waved her off. "You're such a _sunshine_ , Light," she quipped.

The soldier shook her head good-naturedly. "Keep going, Fang, and your words _will_ bite you back in the—"

"I'm the ruler of the wild," Fang sang, overly loud on purpose, masking Lightning's warning (read:cursing). Lightning rolled her eyes, doing it on purpose to let Fang see. Fang laughed. Then they quieted, enjoying each other company silently, basking under the last of sun's rays. "Hey, Light."

"Hm?'

"Back then, how'd you do that?" the huntress asked, her tone deadly serious. " _That_ speed. It's not something even l'Cie would be able to, that was even faster than your _Army of One_ ability." Lightning shifted uneasily. " _Light!_ " Fang shouted, mortified.

"It's not like _that_ ," the soldier defended.

"Then _what_ is it? How much blood did you lose?"

"None." Fang raised her eyebrows skeptically. "I _mean_ it, Fang." The shorter woman turned her gaze to the huntress'. "Just… Let me enjoy this." Fang opened her mouth. " _Please_."

The look on her face was enough for her to shut her mouth, and drop the issue, for the moment. Her eyes promised that they were _not_ done. Nonetheless, Lightning appreciated the gesture.

* * *

Lightning cleared her throat. Damn that woman; she deviously weaved through the party, whispering to various people, no doubt to get them to corner her. True enough; after the guests left, those of her inner circle—namely Amodar, Serah, Snow, Vanille, Sazh, Hope, and Fang herself cornered her, all sitting around the same round table. She felt thankful that Fang didn't speak to the members of NORA there; she didn't know them enough to be comfortable in speaking about her secret. Now, expectant eyes were on her.

Lightning sighed as she gathered her wits, and said, "During that battle, I used _it_ again." She raised her hand, cutting off any protests that she knew were about to be thrown. "My…mentor told me that I passed the test, so I didn't suffer any blood loss. _None,_ not even a _drop_. Turns out, _it_ was a test from the goddess Etro."

Fang grinned toothily.

Vanille squealed.

The rest stared at the oddly.

"Congrats, Lightning," Vanille grinned. She got weird looks. "What? There was a mention, in passing, that Etro would test humans to be her _knight_."

Lightning nodded. "Yes. My mentor _did_ mention that I'm a Knight of Etro," she explained. "My mentor implied that it's a first for _sanguis votum_ to be a test from Etro herself."

Sazh raised an eyebrow. "Implied?"

The elder Farron nodded. "Mentor's always has been vague; it's like a hobby."

Snow grinned. "Does that mean I get to see Neesan's going to wear plate mail?"

Lightning scowled. "Not a hundred years, Snow," she growled.

The blond man's grin didn't fade. "So… Does that mean I can marry Serah, Neesan?"

His answer came in the form of a punch to the shoulder and a snorted "Who's your sister?"

Snow Villiers and Serah Farron shared a knowing look.

 _Lightning hadn't denied it._

Amodar nudged Hope, who was sitting on his right, and gestured for Hope to lean closer to him. The boy complied, and Amodar stage-whispered, "When she was younger, Farron admitted to me that she'll be—I quote—the knight in shining armor of the family."

Lightning blushed. " _Lieutenant!_ " she exclaimed indignantly. "That was when I was still green!"

The rest of the night was spent good naturedly among friends. Laughter and life stories were shared, even if not completely.

The worst had passed. The journey ahead would not be easy, but they would overcome it.

 _ **Together**_

* * *

 **NOTES:**

 **1\. Lightning's real name** , in the Japanese version, is "Éclair". Because of its similarity with a pastry, the English version uses "Claire" instead. "Éclair" makes more sense, though; it means—you guessed it, "lightning". Yeah, looks like dear Light merely translates her name from one language to another (how poetic). "Claire" is more commonly used, however.

 **2\. Oneechan** : "big sis" (older sister), or "Ms." when someone doesn't know a (young) lady's name; it's how Serah refers to Lightning in the Japanese version. Snow does, too, much to her chagrin (some say that he calls her "neesan" instead. The meaning is the same). He does it as often as he could. While it also could mean "Ms.", Lightning seems to be irked by the fact that Snow is Serah's boyfriend, and him calling her that seems to make it more real than she likes. She usually replies—more like _snapping_ , though, with "who's your sister?" (" _Dare ga neesan da?"_ ) or "I'm not your sister." (more common in the English version).

 **3\. Vanille's name** sounds like "Vanilla" in the Japanese dub.

4\. It is unofficial, whether or not it's only "Lightning" or "Lightning Farron". It's never actually mentioned in game; they either call her as "Lightning" or "(Sergeant) Farron". It doesn't help that she introduces herself as "Lightning" all the time (as far as I know), and the datalog said that she retains her surname. Talk about complicated.

 **5\. Live:** It sounds more poetic in Japanese ( _Ikiru_ ). This same line was Lelouch order/geass to Suzaku when Suzaku becomes suicidal to kill Zero/Lelouch. Lelouch wouldn't have it, and thus"cursed" him with the order. As a result, Suzaku was never able to even kill himself, even able to throw off assassination attempts (without _knowing_ about the attempts, whatsoever), and, later on, manipulate the geass to reach inhuman capabilities. ( _Code Geass_ )

 **6\. Imouto** : "younger sister".

 **7\. Light-san** ( _Raito-san_ ), etc.: how Hope refers to Lightning after she tells him that it's alright for him to call her that. Fang seems to call her "Light" ( _Raito_ ) or "Lightning"—if what Light says in LR ( _"'Raito' de ii"_ or "'Light' is fine."—the same thing she tells Hope to call her "Light" on XIII) is any indication, then during XIII Fang called her as "Lightning". Her "Sunshine" nickname is something I can't confirm as I don't have a copy of XIII at the moment of writing. Sazh favors "neesan" (Ms, or young lady). Vanille seems to favor "Lightning". On another note, Hope seems to be a little too polite not to refer to everyone with "-san". I couldn't remember the actual game conversation, though, so yeah.

 **8\. Ano…** : "Err…"; it's usually used as a way of saying "Excuse me" when you're about to ask a question to someone.

9\. Consider Serah and Amodar never meet in person before. I don't know whether or not they had met each other (in-game or before), so yeah. That, and Amodar was one heck of a CO, if their friendly banter early in the game (and Episode Zero) is any indication. Japanese dub shows this easily.

 **10\. Snow-kun** : Heard in Episode Zero (drama CD), 1st chapter.

 **11\. Starseeker** or **Star Seeker** : Serah's default weapon from XIII-2. It's a bowsword—a sword for short-range, a bow for long-range. Its original form is Mog, a moogle. In-game, he transforms into a bowsword for Serah to use. I didn't play the game, so I'm going to assume that she shot light arrows, made from energy.

All info I obtained are either from the wiki, YouTube videos of the cutscenes in Japanese audio and English subtitles, my own interpretation, or from _Lightning Returns_. Oh, and I renamed "Blazefire Saber" (Lightning's default gunblade) to "Blaze Edge" at the last minute before publishing this. It's basically still the same thing, but I find the Japanese version name a bit more fitting...

This fanfiction takes place where Etro doesn't interfere, and thus ignores XIII-2 and LR. I admit; I blamed Etro for a lot of things, one of which is her interference to Light's and the rest's crystallization. Here, Light's "blood magic" does what Etro did in the game, and some other Etro didn't. In other words: _**AU**_

 _ **Pre-publishing(?) notes:**_ Gee, I was gonna wait for my friend to unofficially beta read my other story, and this one, but she took _soooo_ long (didn't even tell me if she's done or not), but I can't stop this excess energy. I have a (loose) sequel planned (it's still around 200-ish words right now), but don't count on it. I'm better at making serial one-shots (I guess) than multi chapter stories because I don't have the time or dedication. Forgive any mistakes on my part, and do tell me if there's anything I could (or should) correct, do tell.

 _ **EDIT:**_ Changed " _Dare **ka** neesan da?_ " to " _Dare **ga** neesan da?_ " based on the Japanese dialogue text I saw on YouTube.


End file.
